Contact
by Elle Hael
Summary: This is a fic following my female vanguard/spacer/sole survivor character. It focuses mostly on relationships between Shepard and her crew. While this does cover all three games I have not been writing and for the time being will not be posting in any particular order. If I feel compelled later on I may tidy that up. Fairly Shenko heavy (rated for language and potential content)
1. Sessions

"It's been four sessions now Lieutenant. I was hoping we could talk about the commandertoday." The doctor activated his omni tool calmly. "You don't mind if I record do you? Much easier than all that note taking."

He didn't need to explain, or even really ask. He had recorded all their prior appointments.

Anderson had requested as a friend he attend these sessions after the attack on the Normandy, but he was sure that the councilor was in a position to make that friendly request in an order as a superior officer if he had refused. Up til now it had even been rather easy to comply as the doctor generally just sat listening calmly as Kaidan had wasted time describing his family, or boot camp. The first visit he had asked about the crew, and inevitably her.

"Shepard was an excellent solider," he had said numbly. It had only been a month since the memorial. There had been no body to bury. Only a month? Fuck, how had it been so long already?

Sensing his discomfort the doctor had segued artfully away instead asking about the events on Virmire.

It made Kaidan sick what a relief this has been as he calmly began to discuss Ashley. It was true he had avoided her too, but compared to Shepard this seemed simple. I'm such a bastard he had thought to himself as he justified for what was at least the hundredth time aloud, probably the thousandth in his head the choice she had made. He left out the part about how afterwords she had admitted she couldn't have brought herself to leave him there. 

From that point on there had been not a word about the commander in any visit, and very little about the Normandy at all. Today they sat there in uncomfortable silence for a moment before he answered surprising himself with how bluntly the response came.

"What degree of confidentiality are we dealing with here doctor."

Judging by the skeptical eyebrow raise this brought back it seemed he wasn't the only one caught off guard.

"Technically, I'm not required to report anything that doesn't suggest the possibility of something that could be harmful to you or those around you in and out of the field." he brushed his fingers over his omni tool and the bright orange light dimmed before relaxing in his seat. Was that suppose to make it more personal?

"Technically?"

"I don't see the benefit in it, I don't plan to, and no regulation says I'm expected to. If I reported every little toe open of line Lieutenant frankly we would never get to the core of anything important." With his free hand he stroked his beard thoughtfully. Kaidan watched him carefully trying to remember anything he had every heard about whether or not doctors were allowed lie about that sort of thing. He never did decide before he answered this time.

"Alex had this gravity, this energy that made you want to rush right along with her into the center of everything..."


	2. Custody

It felt like Shepard had read the report at least one hundred times. She had lost track of time, but the characters on the data-pad were becoming gibberish. _Probably past midnight at least. I wonder if Vega is still just standing out there. _The alliance had assigned the younger solider to guard her in the time since her arrival on earth. She had snapped at him explaining she was too old for a babysitter when he had explained the situation, and it seemed like he had resolved it safer to give her some space. She felt sort of guilty really. He had caught her after her first visit with the therapist they had her meeting with. It was important to establish her state of mind, and make sure that she wasn't something the alliance would want to gain as much political distance from as possible.

_"It sounds like your family was close growing up, and your mother is still in active service correct? Where is your father now?"_

_ "My father died in an attack by raiders while his vessel was escorting colony supply transports in the terminus. I was nine." It was a rude question. Her father was an Alliance officer. This would all be on file along with every session she had been through after that or Akuze but she mentally urged herself to remain composed. She hadn't become N7 without at least a few hours of analysis. This was manageable all be it aggravating and uncomfortable. _

_ "It's generally understood that the raider groups active in that region during the time of the incident you're describing were primarily batarian," a statement, not a question as the doctor made a few brief notes on her data pad._

"_What are you suggesting doctor?" She asked, but really it was more of a challenge to see if the older woman had the nerve to admit to the idea no one seemed to want to voice._

"_I think we both know Ms. Shepard."_

_Ms., not commander. It almost went without saying she didn't hold much right to her rank currently._

Tomorrow would be the hearing, and of course she knew how it looked. That was why she was reading, again, the report she had submitted on the "incident" at the alpha relay. It wasn't like it stood to make any more difference now. The report was already submitted, and what was done was done long before that. She pushed up off the immaculate white sofa of the modest apartment the alliance council had supplied when she had explained she didn't have a place. She hadn't spent any time on earth since before basic, and before that it had been visits as a young child. She wondered if house arrest was worse for the type to be concerned over things like sunsets or weather. She herself had never really cared for surface life. Earth was the home world, but home had never been such a stationary concept for her. Growing up aboard active vessels Shepard was too acclimated to the sensation, like being a part of the inner workings of some vast creature, never entirely quiet or still. She would have killed to be laying in the dim blue light of her quarters with the soothing white noise of the ships systems right now. It was strange how attached she had gotten to that ship, _her ship_, when at first she had viewed it in such mixed light. On one hand it was a beautiful vessel, far superior to anything that had come before it, and it didn't hurt that the design was so very reminiscent of her SR1. On the other she was sure she didn't even want to discuss the credits used to fund that upgraded walk down memory lane. Nothing Cerberus ever did came without a catch. Somewhere deep down she probably always knew that. It was just easier to pretend to believe it was all rooted in something noble. In spite of her misgivings she had eventually called the new Normandy home. Anyway, she was Cerberus designed now too. It was something she generally tried not to dwell on in the times she could help it, but the last couple days in custody had left an unfamiliar level of down time. She paced the small sitting area awkwardly, her feet making soft swishing sounds against the carpet. It was a wonder she hadn't worn a hole through that cheap carpet over the course of the last week. She caught sight of her reflection mingled with lit signs and far off traffic, pacing in the polished glass of the windows that dominated one side of the room. She watched the pale woman in the glass press her palm up to meet her own. It was strange to imagine it was her looking back. Stress was picking her apart, and it showed. Certainly this had to be to worst she had looked since her revival, a mismatched mix of her Lazarus project perfect skin and deep dark circles. It was kind of satisfying really to see the damage, and the humanizing effect it had. Before dying she had worn her service record in what she saw as a series of, mostly small, complimentary scars. Afterward however they had rebuilt so much. Details like scars weren't extremely important to scientists performing the impossible. Thinking back she remembered how at first these little things had seemed critical, like if she had those details then she must be who Miranda and Jacob said she was. Without all that proof there was no way to be sure. She had spent a long time wondering if the afterlife was just some nasty cruel joke. Worse, maybe she really was some AI creation or laboratory monster. Whatever she was back then, for a long time Commander Alexia Shepard was alive and dead all at once even if she was the only one who saw it. The surface of her skin, her hair, even the green eyes that had been staring back for as long as she had known were all products of over a year of tireless lab work now. It was impossible to tell where new parts met with whatever had been left to salvage_. _At first she had even tried to see if she could find the spots where whatever she was and whatever she had been before met with no success. It was probably better this way really. She couldn't imagine it being any less unsettling if she could feel some sort of seams.

The reflection in the glass tugged up on her camisole revealing the only detail she could be sure anymore wasn't given to her in Miranda's lab, a tiny metal ring through her navel with a stone at the center. Jack had talked her into this (failing her debate for a tattoo) after the mission through the Omega relay. She had teased that it was a reminder of what it was like to belong to herself before she let herself get caught and tagged by the alliance again. Shepard had kept it to herself that ironically the single stone was deep alliance blue. Somehow she thought maybe Jack just understood, but she was glad she kept it to herself. Neither of them has any inclination to emotional chatting really It had been a silly little thing, but it had felt good to make her own choices and know that she _still_ chose this. After tonight though it might not even be something she was welcome to. The thought made her throat tighten.

Somewhere in the back of her mind the door chirped behind her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The lights of distant cars raced across the pale surface of her abdomen while she stood there frozen, fixated on the familiar stranger in the glass. She barely heard the hiss or the sound of boots crossing the room. She was only jarred from her hazy reverie when she wasn't alone in the glass anymore. She whipped around to meet the gaze of her uninvited guest thinking after the fact to release the fabric of her top. Only the intermittent light through the window illuminated them, but the recognition was instantaneous. To the casual observer he was a polished professional. If she hadn't known him so well once she might even have missed the storm just beneath the surface of that look. He hadn't been sleeping either, and perfect posture struggled to mask the tension. Shepard thought for sure she had seen his eyes soften under her scrutiny. She wondered if he had noticed too how much they mirrored each other, two broken things standing restless in tense silence.

"Shepard," Kaidan's assumed the distant professional tone she had been learning to stomach lately from the people she held close. She tried to force herself to return the stern look, failing that she slipped past him. She avoided brushing to close like it may hurt, and headed for the kitchen where she retrieved a glass from the cabinet and poured herself a glass of water. Suddenly feeling parched she took a cool gulp so big it hurt a bit before setting the mostly full glass in the bottom of the sink. He said nothing through this whole uncomfortable strange process. He just waited, following her with a blank stare as she moved around the apartment. The air in that room seemed dense as the contents of that glass. When she finally turned to face him and opened her mouth to speak she surprised herself with how irate she actually felt.

"Why are you here?"

"I've been asked to speak at the hearing tomorrow," he paused like he expected an other response not getting one he continued to explain, "about what I saw on Horizon, and about you, your character."

"So, why are you _here_. You were there . You don't need me to walk you through what you saw,"She scowled at him glancing briefly at the light switch and deeming the act too courteous. Turning on the lights was like welcoming the conversation she was suddenly too exhausted to have. It was childish, but satisfying, and it dawned on her then that they hadn't actually spoke since Horizon,. Their first encounter after her absence had gone incredibly poorly. He had sent her message, but it had hurt more than helped. She had composed several unsent responses and moved on altogether.

"We really need to talk." He finally crossed to meet her there in the kitchen his eyes darting around in the dark struggling to read her face.

"I don't have anything to say to you Lieutenant," pride mingled with guilt at the momentary wrinkle this elicited in his brow.

"Lieutenant Commander," he corrected and she only narrowed her eyes in response,"I've read the reports dozens of times. _All_ of them. I'm just not sure what I'm going to say at this point." He attempted to gloss over her sour attitude, but brushed his arm over his forehead in a gesture she recognized as his one and only nervous habit.

"If you've read the reports then I really don't get it. What do you want from me _Lieutenant Commander_? Confessions? I don't deny a thing about what happened out there." Her tone did nothing to mask her annoyance. She couldn't bring herself to handle him gracefully tonight.

"What do I want? Answers? I'm sure you know it doesn't look good Shepard..." There it was again. That vague effort not to say it, like not talking about it was any less accusing. This game was making her impatient.

"What doesn't look good?" She inquired sarcastically, "The part where I acted under the banner of a terrorist organization, or the part where I destroyed the alpha relay and more than 300,000 lives surrounding it? What are you looking for me to say? Do you need a reason? Do you want to hear this was all some sort of profoundly bigoted psychotic break? I did what I did because the reapers were sets to walk right through our back door Kaidan and if I hadn't we wouldn't have made it long enough to be having this conversation! " She leaned against the counter crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm not sure I can just go in there tomorrow accepting that's all there is to this. I know what I want to be able to say in there, but you and I both know what Cerberus can be capable of. You saw it Shepard. I was there with you. Would this really be the first time a Cerberus officer took out innocent civilians for their own agenda. Even then isn't it always for some other gain according to someone? There's always going to be ways to try to justify it, but that doesn't make it right." The comparison made her nauseous.

"You can't honestly hope to compare this situation to what we saw in those labs. Besides, I wasn't a _Cerberus officer, _I didn't even really work for them in that capacity. You know me Kaidan. Forget what Cerberus could do. Do you seriously believe that what you're suggesting is something _I'm_ capable of?"

"That's just it. I'm not sure I _do_ know you that well." he regret showed on his face almost immediately as she dragged her hand through her hair. Dozens of angry, hurt words tumbled through her brain, but nothing seemed to properly fit this exact moment. What eventually spilled out was based more in shock.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

"You should know exactly what I mean. I watched my Shepard die. I loved her, and I watched helpless while she was blown into space. You were gone for two years. We had a memorial. I moved on, or I mean, I thought I did, " the look on his face was unbearable, and her gaze dropped to the tile unable to hold his stare any longer as he spoke.

"And then I came back," the rest sat heavy on the tip of her tongue unsaid, _and you didn't want me anyway._

"and then you came back. Like nothing happened you just walked back into the center of everything like you somehow always are. That's the thing though. It doesn't happen that way. People don't just die, disappear, and come back." She could feel him beginning to pace under the weight of his frustration, but she couldn't find the words to say to refute him in a way that would make any difference, so she fixed her stare low where the cabinetry met the floor. She was asking him to believe something insane by any average standards. Before what had happened to her she never would have believed that death was anything less than extremely permanent.

"I understand what you're saying because for a long time I had the same doubts," She chose her words carefully, _had_, not _have, "_but I have never been less than honest with you. There isn't much more I can do to assuage those doubts for you. I'm sorry that isn't good enough, but I had sort of figured that you could just be happy I wasn't dead, and try to understand," she heard him inhale to respond, but kept going " being that deluded is probably a side effect of the fact that all the time you spent getting promoted, fucking doctors, and otherwise _moving on_ never happened for me. I closed my eyes and woke up still in love with you."

When she finally got the nerve to look back into his eyes she was surprised by the concern there. She resented herself for how much she savored this affectionate look. She wasn't ready to stop hating him yet, but somehow he presented a weak spot that all logical thought and lateral planning continually proved useless against. His fingers wrapped around her wrist and it wasn't til she tasted the salt from her tears on his mouth that she understood how she must have looked. When had she started crying? How the hell did he constantly make her so weak? She squirmed and his other hand nested fingers deep in her hair holding her too him hard. She gasped, and her senses swam in his delicious spicy, clean smell. Any chance at her refusal collapsed almost automatically. This was obviously a mistake, but something she couldn't resist getting tangled up in while she was pressed against him, all taut muscle and intensity. The last week had left her feeling stripped bare. She hadn't lied about loving him back then. Hell, maybe she still did. If nothing else she would have been embarrassed to admit how many times she imagined Horizon to have played out something more like this. The potent effect of details no dream had ever done justice threaten to drown her as he kissed with bruising desperation tilting her head back to meet him. Not enough time had passed when Shepard registered the ache in her lungs, the softening room. The acknowledgment that she couldn't breath came on with a panicked jolt pulling her out of the haze. She planted her palms against his chest reflexively shoving so hard she stumbled back and bumped the counter taking short rapid breaths. Seeing her panic he reached out to help her steady herself, but she swatted his hand away. It seemed ridiculous, but for a split second she'd imagined she was floating again with the dark void gathering rapidly around her, air depleting from her lungs, dying.

When she regained her composure enough to look back at him she wasn't sure where the words she let spill out came from.

"I need you to go."

His brow furrowed in hurt and confusion, "Alex, I think we sh-"

"No, please, just go."

He nodded recognition, but she knew he didn't really understand any more than she did. He just saw the look on her face and could still recognize when she was overwhelmed. He slowly retreated for the door as she slumped against the counter. His hand hovered over the terminal to let himself out, and she didn't even look up when she spoke.

"This doesn't really change anything does it?" She mumbled softly.

"No... I don't think it does."

The door slid open and then closed and he was gone leaving nothing resolved in his wake. She wanted to rush out after him and demand he come back, but knew she wouldn't. There was still to much between them for it to be that simple even if just then it hadn't seemed that way.


End file.
